


Doug Eiffel, Flier Dipshit Extraordinaire

by deletedsystem32



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Doug is not described, Everyone lives/Nobody dies, F/M, He ends up having fun though, Hera is not described, characters not described so you can use your own headcanons, poor doug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 17:22:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7062397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deletedsystem32/pseuds/deletedsystem32
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doug Eiffel is the unfortunate soul stuck on campus on a Saturday afternoon as the Astronomy Club’s appointed Flier Dipshit, handing out fliers for the Club’s monthly “Recent Discoveries” presentation (which no one ever shows up to). Another Flier Dipshit from and for a different cause, seeing him lonely and bored, proposes a friendly competition to see who can hand out the most fliers. As the competition quickly escalates into playful shoving and sabotage, their friendship escalates into something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doug Eiffel, Flier Dipshit Extraordinaire

**Author's Note:**

> Typed out in a relative hurry (read: please forgive any mistakes), this was inspired by the time my friend and I were handing out fliers and, long story short, it all devolved into, "PLEASE TAKE MY FLIER," "NO, PLEASE TAKE MY FLIER!"  
> Speaking of, is it "flyer" or "flier?" I couldn't get a super-straight answer online, so I just went with "flier."  
> Enjoy!

Doug Eiffel stood in the middle of campus, very bored.

As usual, his name had been drawn for the Astronomy Club's "flier duty." And now he was, as the other members called the unlucky soul whose name was drawn, the "Flier Dipshit." _I swear, that system is rigged,_ he thought.

So there he was, stuck on campus on a Saturday afternoon, handing out fliers for the Astronomy Club's monthly presentation on recent discoveries and breakthroughs in the world of astronomy and space travel. The problem is that no one but Astronomy Club members show up for the presentation, no matter how many fliers the Flier Dipshit hands out.

(It should be noted that there are only five members in the Astronomy Club. Three of them give the presentation, and _everyone_ does the research, which means the two remaining members already know what's in the presentation. Doug had voiced his opinion on continuing to do the presentation _when nobody showed up_ , but had only been threatened with expulsion from the Club.)

Doug had half a mind to just leave and go do whatever he wanted to instead of standing here like—get this—a _dipshit_ , but the head of the Club always seemed to find out about that sort of thing, which would mean he'd be kicked out for sure. "That might not actually be a bad thing..." he grumbled.

"What might not be a bad thing?" a female voice said behind him.

"Gah! What- Who- _Why?!_ Don't scare me like that!"

"Whoops, sorry about that! I'm Hera. Nice to meet you," the owner of the voice said, holding out her hand.

"Don't worry about it. I'm Doug. Doug Eiffel," he said, shaking her outstretched hand. He noticed the fliers in her hand. "So, uh, are you a Flier Dipshit, too?"

"Excuse me?"

"O-Oh! Uh, I said, 'Are you handing out fliers, too?'" Doug stammered.

"Hm, I could have _sworn_ you said something else," Hera said, giving him a knowing smirk. "But I guess not."

Doug wasn't sure whether to be more relieved that Hera wouldn't mention his slip-up further, or to be more embarrassed that his slip-up happened in the first place. He settled on an equal amount of both.

"So, what are you handing out fliers for?" Hera asked. "Mine are for a party—one that hopefully won't get _too_ wild."

"Well, yours is a lot more interesting than mine…"

* * *

Doug explained about the Astronomy Club and their presentation. To his surprise, Hera seemed _interested_. He doubted she'd show up, though.

They made small talk for a bit, handing out fliers for their respective causes whenever someone walked by. Well, when someone who would _take_ them walked by. Eventually, Hera had an idea to curb the monotony of the task. She gave Doug a look. A _mischievous_ look.

"Hey, what's _that_ look for?" Doug asked.

"I have an idea," said Hera.

Doug raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"Let's have a contest to see who can hand out the most fliers."

"Sure. What does the winner get?"

"We'll figure something out. Contest begins in three… two…"

"Waitwaitwaitwaitwait! Any rules? Anything off limits?"

Hera just gave him an "I'm Up To Something" look. _That can_ _'_ _t be good_ , thought Doug.

"…ONE!"

A student walked by.

"Oh, hey! Renée! Could you do me a favor?"

The student, Renée, stopped.

"Of course, Hera. What can I do?"

"Please spread the word—tell _everyone_ you see: do not take Doug Eiffel's Astronomy Club fliers."

"Can do."

"Thanks, Renée!"

"Anytime, Hera."

She walked away. Doug could see her stopping people a little ways off, talking and pointing at him. Those people would glance his way and make a face.

 _Who_ knows _what kinds of lies she_ _'_ _s making up?!_

"Hey!" yelled Doug. "You… You can't do that! That's cheating! No, wait. That's like, _über_ -cheating!"

"No, _this_ is 'über-cheating,'" Hera said as someone rounded the corner.

"Excuse me, Sir? Sir! Over here!" Hera shouted. The student walked over.

"Um, can I… help you?"

"Why, yes! Yes you can. I'm handing out fliers for a party next weekend. Could you do me a favor and hand these out to people? You know, friends, people you pass by on the sidewalk, et cetera."

He stared at her blankly for a second.

"Yes? Great. Thanks! Oh, and one more thing! What's your name?"

"Uh, Alex."

She pulled a pen out of her pocket and wrote on one of the fliers:

**VIP Pass for Alex.**

**Guaranteed Admission!**

**-** **_Hera_ **

"There you go! Now you'll _definitely_ get in. Have a nice day!" she said, shoving a small stack of fliers into Alex's hands. He walked off, looking back once before he turned the corner with an odd look on his face, like he was still trying to process what had just happened.

Once he was gone, Hera turned to Doug, who _also_ had an odd look on his face, like he was still trying to process what had just happened.

"Don't tell him, but _everyone_ gets into the party!" she said with a giggle.

Doug narrowed his eyes.

"Oh, it is _on_ ," he grumbled.

* * *

 

The next thirty minutes were filled with lots of pointing and wild accusations about each other's fliers.

" _His_ fliers have fake information! You'll show up on the wrong day at the wrong time!"

"Not as fake as _hers!_ The phone number is for Comcast customer service! And on top of being the wrong number, we all know how calls with _them_ go."

"He put itching powder on his fliers! What the _hell,_ Doug?!"

"She cursed her fliers! If you so much as _look_ at one, everyone you know will _die!_ "

"He's sick! He coughed on all of his fliers! They'll give you the flu!"

"HER FLIERS GAVE ME CANCER!"

"Who's going to believe _that?!_ "

"You never know!"

"Oh for the love of- JUST TAKE MY FLIER!" Hera yelled at a passing student.

"NO, TAKE _MY_ FLIER!" Doug yelled at the same passing student, playfully shoving Hera aside.

"TAKE MINE!"

"MINE!"

" _MINE!_ "

As the poor, genuinely terrified-looking student sprinted away, Doug and Hera wondered if they should stop. Both answered each other, grinning, at the same time:

"Naaah!"

And all of _that_ gradually devolved into wild accusations about _each other_.

"He always passes by the Salvation Army bell-ringers around Christmas!"

"She steals from Goodwill donation bins!"

"He prank-calls 911!"

" _She_ sends hate-mail to terminally ill children in the hospital!"

"Doug! That's crossing the line!"

"Well, you _miiiiight_ wanna admit defeat and surrender, then."

He opened his mouth to spout more nonsense. Hera, not wanting to hear what could be worse than sending _hate-mail_ to _terminally ill children_ , gave up.

"Alright, alright! Fine! You win! I surrender," she said, sighing in defeat.

Doug pumped his fist in the air and started to do a little victory dance.

"Woo-HOOOOOO! Yes! Doug: one, Hera: zero!"

"Buuuuut,"

Doug stopped midstep.

"'Buuuuut' what? You just said I won!"

"Buuuuut, there was no 'Who Can Make the Most Wild Accusation' contest. The _actual_ contest was to see who could hand out more fliers, which _I_ appear to have won. Soooo, Doug: zero, _Hera:_ one."

Doug had that 'trying to process what just happened' look, again.

"But… But…"

"No 'buts!' I won, so that makes me the Greater _Flier Dipshit_. Or Lesser, depending on how you look at it."

Doug's face turned bright red in embarrassment. He spluttered, trying to find words.

"I-I… I… Um… I-"

Hera just smiled at him and took a flier out of his hand. She winked at him, handed him one of her own fliers, and began to walk away.

"See you at the presentation, Doug!"

"W-Wha…"

He was dumbfounded. He stood there in shock, his jaw practically on the floor. Glancing down at the flier Hera had handed him, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped even farther, if that was even possible.

 _Is this_ _…_ _Is this her_ number? _With a_ heart?!

Doug glanced back up to see Hera waving at him. He waved back.

"See you at the party," he said softly, smiling a big, goofy, Doug Eiffel-esque grin.

 _Just_ what _have I gotten myself into?_ he thought happily.


End file.
